Perry Mason: The Best Part of Me
by murphycat
Summary: I had removed this story, but I was asked to repost. I felt it needed re-editing so it will be new and not. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 1

Della came awake with a startled jerk. Beside her, Perry Mason, her boss, lover, companion, and best friend, for nearly 40 years, still snored, oblivious to anything that might have occurred to wake Della. Smiling to herself, she knew he had reason to be tired.

Again, she heard a noise. Her cat, Festus? He did have a bad habit of dragging in late looking quite the worse for wear, sometimes bringing the "prize" of a dead mouse or a lizard. Even after he had been neutered, it hadn't stopped his late night walk-abouts.

She rose from their warm bed, and after slipping on her bedroom shoes and light robe, Della made her way downstairs. Getting to the first floor, she called, softly, "Kitty, kitty."

Suddenly, Festus ran so quickly from the kitchen, across to the living room and to his basket in front of the fire, that the cat slid sideways, almost colliding with a chair.

"Good grief, you silly tomcat, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" she scolded softly.

She entered the kitchen and froze in her tracks when the broken glass on the floor glittered up at her in the soft light.

The window right above the door handle was smashed inward, with pieces all over the floor; fortunately, no one could break inside because the locks were keyed on both sides, and the inside key had been removed as a safety precaution for years and was hung on a peg beside the kitchen door.

Now, she thought, it had paid off.

Della Street turned to go back up to the second floor to wake Perry and tell him what had happened, but as she turned, two strong hands gripped her arms above the elbow and held her in grip like a steel vise.


	2. Chapter 2

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 2

For a second Della's heart stopped and she sucked in a gasp of air. That was before she recognized the large man in front of her.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack, Perry?"

She leaned her head against his chest to recover from the fright he had given her.

Perry Mason's entire body shook with low laughter, "Of course not, Della, but I was worried when you didn't come back. Are you alright? I know I surprised you in the dark, but it shouldn't have scared you this much."

Della raised her head, and in her sultry voice, said softly, "Actually, I was coming back upstairs. It looks as if someone has tried to break in through the back door.

"At first I thought it was Festus," she led him by the hand into their kitchen, "but look," she said, indicating the broken glass. "That wasn't Festus."

"No, it wasn't, Della," he turned and gave her a grim smile, "Would you please call the police and we can report an attempted burglary?"

She nodded and reached for the kitchen phone, while Perry stepped carefully over the glass and peered through the other panes in the door glass to see outside.

The automatic light wasn't on right now, but it only had a setting of two minutes unless there was something or someone directly in line with the sensor.

"The police are on their way, Perry. I asked them not to use lights and sirens and wake the entire neighborhood."

Perry Mason, criminal lawyer and legend, smiled down at the love of his life, literally almost his entire adult life. "Good idea. Why don't we get dressed before they get here?"

He took her by the elbow and escorted her up to their bedroom.

**********************D & P******************

"Sir, we have taken fingerprints off the storm door as well as any on the glass. We will run whatever we find through AFIS, and once we eliminate you and Mrs. Mason," said the young deputy, with "Carter" on the medal ID pinned to the left side of his uniform shirt.

Della asked, "Did you find anything disturbed outside?"

She stood by Perry, and he had his massive arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly.

"No, ma'am. There was a chair turned over on the lawn that someone may have run into and turned over running away from the house when the motion light kicked on. We'll check that for prints, as well," Deputy Rosen answered.

"I wouldn't get my hopes up, though. In crimes like this gloves are usually worn and we won't have a lot to go on, or it could be a couple of kids."

Deputy Carter added, "We will have extra patrol cars going by here for the next few days, and if anything else happens, sir, ma'am, give us a call."

Perry walked them out and thanked them for their efforts, then after locking the front door, he heard Della sweeping up the glass in the kitchen.

He walked into the brightly lit and homey room and watched her until she was finished, then took the pan from her hand and emptied it into the waste basket. He then took the broom from her as well and placed them into the kitchen closet.

Della was looking out the window, over the kitchen sink, onto the backyard and Perry came up behind her and wrapped his bear-like arms around her. Leaning down and nuzzling in her hair behind her ear, he whispered, "Are you okay?"

She took a deep breath before she spoke. "Well, I'm not thrilled, Perry. Actually, I'm a little unnerved. We'll have to be more conscientious about setting our alarm from now on."

She grew quiet for a few minutes as they stood looking at the darkness. "I suppose I like to feel that we're safe here in our quiet, _good_ neighborhood, but….times change, don't they?"

Della's voice was quiet and her demeanor was subdued. Perry turned her around to face him.

"Listen up, _Mrs. Mason," _Della smiled, as she remembered the assumption the policemen had made, and then listened to him as he continued.

"We _are_ perfectly safe here. It _is_ a good neighborhood, and we have an alarm to warn us of things like this in the future. And, furthermore, _you should have wakened me_ when you heard something instead of traipsing down here alone, young lady."

Perry tried to give her a stern look but failed and instead kissed her brown and silver hair, still mussed from sleeping. "Got it!"

"Got it, Chief," she saluted smartly before she headed back up the stairs. "I'll let you set the alarm—and be quick about it. Since I'm already awake…."

Della shrugged and gave him a sweet sexy smile that hinted of things to come.

"I'm on my way, dear. On my way," Perry said, hurrying to secure their home before heading upstairs.

***********************P &D***********************

The next morning, while Perry and Della were eating breakfast and perusing the paper, there was a familiar rat-a-tat-tat on the back door.

"Come in Paul," Della called.

Paul's infectious smile and good nature was always welcome to Della. The young man stopped to give his second mother a warm hug, while verbally admiring the couple's breakfast.

"I suppose that means you're hungry," Perry said gruffly, from behind his paper.

"Peerrry!" Della admonished him. "Of course he's hungry. What would you like, dear? Scrambled eggs, toast, and some bacon. It's all still warm?"

Paul, Jr., gave her his most charming smile, "Della, don't go to any trouble on my part," as she was already moving to get his breakfast together.

Getting down to business, Paul turned to Perry, "What do you need, Perry? You sounded a little annoyed on the phone this morning."

Paul smiled at Della as she set his food down.

"You gentlemen enjoy breakfast; I'll be right back," Della said, pausing long enough to place a soft hand on Perry's shoulder and asked if he needed anything.

Paul watched as the light in the older man's eyes came alive when Della was near.

"No, Della, I'm wonderful. Better than wonderful," Perry said, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

Paul could have sworn he saw Della blush as she turned to go upstairs. As soon as she was out of the room, Perry's demeanor changed.

"Someone tried to break in last night," Perry said. "I want you to find out who and why."

"Did you call the L.A. Sheriff's Department," Paul asked, between bites.

"Yes, Paul, we_ actually_ thought of that, and they came out and performed their perfunctory duties." Perry closed the paper and placed it down beside him.

"You do realize this was probably just a random B & E, right?"

Leaning closer, the large man's blue eyes snapped with energy and anger. "I don't care what it was. Della was frightened and could have been hurt. She came downstairs alone, apparently right after it happened, and it could have been much worse." Perry leaned back into his chair and picked up his coffee cup.

"So find the who and the why, and get back to me. Nobody, no one, threatens Della. Not even indirectly. Got it?"

Paul swallowed the last of his juice that Della had poured. "Yes, sir. And I agree. If there is anything to find, I'll find it."

He rose to leave. "Tell Della I had to run and thanks for breakfast."

As he reached for the door handle, Perry spoke once more.

"Paul….it might be prudent to check the parole and release records for the last six weeks or so. See if there is anyone of interest on it."

"Will do."

After Paul left, Perry Mason sat looking out the window watching the birds on the numerous feeders he and Della provided, but his blue eyes reflected a mind that was far away and moving fast over a list of enemies and possible enemies from forty years involvement in the justice system.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Best Part of Me**

Chapter 3

**The next morning…

"Della? Are you ready to go yet?"

Perry replaced Festus's bowl, brimming with fresh water on the mat covered with kitty paws.

The scruffy cat looked up at him with disdain, one eye slightly scrunched up and his whiskers askew. The two of them were still staring at each other when Della came down the stairs. Neither of them appeared to notice her. She paused in the kitchen door to watch them.

"Perry, stop trying to outstare him. You know he always wins, Counselor. That is one culprit that you will _never_ break," her throaty laughter filled the kitchen.

"He is up to something, Della," the lawyer said, pointing a finger at the cat.

"He looks….suspicious." Festus took that moment to tilt his head, look up and give Perry a grouchy "re-ow," then sauntered away.

Della couldn't contain herself and laughed loudly.

"He has your number, Perry." She leaned up to peck him on the check with a quick kiss. "Good morning, dear."

"The rascal knows that I have his girl. He's jealous," Perry growled. "Come here, woman," he said, turning to Della, who was pouring them two travel mugs of coffee. "I need a proper kiss."

He wrapped his big arms around her, inhaling her scent and her perfume combined.

.Perry leaned down and kissed Della with a passion that belied their ages.

"One day, that scroungy cat is going to try to take me out, lady, so every day you keep him, my life is in danger," he chuckled.

Still smiling about his feline nemesis, Della said, "We're going to be late, dear, so if you think you can escape the clutches of the killer kitty, we need to go."

Leaving the house and Perry to make sure everything was locked and secure, Della slid gracefully behind the wheel of her convertible that had been left in the drive the evening before.

Perry finished setting the home alarm and then joined her in the car.

Companionable silence filled the automobile as they travelled their usual route to the office where Ken was probably already waiting for them.

As Della neared the first intersection, she tapped the brakes to slow the car before the stop sign.

The pedal went all the way to the floor. Fear shot through her like an arrow.

The road through here was heavily travelled in the morning and evening and was bumper to bumper with cars filled with people headed to work.

"Perry!" Della shouted. "I can't stop!"

Realizing what was about to happen because Della was pumping furiously trying to regain control of the car, Perry grabbed the door's "Jesus" handle.

Della did what she had to—turned the Cadillac Allante' and pressed the emergency brake—hard—as the vehicle left the highway and plunged down an embankment, stopped by a large eucalyptus tree. There was a resounding crash of crumpling metal, followed only by the hissing sounds fluids dripping onto a crushed, hot engine.

******************P & D ***************

Perry was stunned by the impact, but the airbag and the seat belt had prevented much damage to his personage. Regaining his senses, his first thought was for Della. Her airbag had also deployed, but her head had smacked her side window. There was a small trace of blood on the glass and she was unconscious.

In the distance, sirens were already blaring, but Perry couldn't hear them. He was too consumed with getting out of the car and reaching Della.

Dense black smoke was coming from underneath the car and Della still hadn't come to.

Pushing open the door, he noticed that there was a significant drop to the ground, due the angle of the automobile's resting place and the steepness of embankment.

Gritting his teeth, the older man tried to ease down to the ground without doing more damage to his knee, which was weak from an old injury. It wasn't to be. He landed hard, with his weight coming to bear onto the old injury.

Damn it to hell! The sharp pain in his knee was excruciating. Taking a deep breath and trying to compartmentalize the pain, Perry moved around the tail end of the vehicle. As he rounded the car to approach Della's door, he finally noticed two paramedics carefully coming down the hill toward them.

Perry reached the driver's door the same time as the first paramedic.

"Della! Della!" He reached to open the door, but was stopped by the emergency worker.

"Wait, sir! You need to step back and allow us to make sure that your wife hasn't injured her spine nor has a serious head injury."

Perry started to interrupt, but the paramedic gently took hold of his arm.

"Sir, please. You don't want her to be hurt by your actions. Let us do our job." The young woman's eyes were sympathetic but firm.

Perry deflated. She was right.

"Please," his voice broke. "Take care of her."

"We will. Please allow us to help you up to the ambulance to be examined while we remove your wife from the car." Simmons, the emergency medical tech, could see the man was hesitant to leave the woman.

She smiled at him and said, "It will make it easier for us to get her out quickly, and you want to be waiting at the ambulance for her when we get her out, right?"

Perry was a tower of strength, but the source of that strength was hurt, and he was reduced to a wounded old lion. .

His usually fiery, fierce blue eyes both begged and threatened the young woman.

"Please, don't….let her—take care of her."

"I give you my word. Now, sir?" Simmons indicated another EMT and a fireman who stood ready to help him up the incline.

With a stricken look, Perry Mason left the woman he loved more than his life in a stranger's hands.

Perry reached the ambulance, finally, and the pain in his leg was almost blinding in its intensity.

Sitting down as instructed on the bumper of the emergency vehicle, he finally allowed the paramedic to examine him, but the lawyer would not take anything for the pain in his leg until he saw that Della was safe. Arguing with him was useless. He did get one of them to attempt to contact Ken and Paul.

"What is taking so long?" Perry demanded. "Why don't they have her out by now? Good God, they only have to get her out and onto a backboard!"

Ken Malansky was running through the crowd, which by now had gathered to watch the spectacle, pushing his way through to Perry.

The young attorney was struck by how rattled Perry looked. His hair was tousled and perspiration was running down each side of his face. His eyes were filled with something that Ken thought he'd never seen nor ever would: fear.

As soon as he arrived, Perry grabbed Ken by the arm, and said, "Della's down there; find out what's taking them so long!"

"Perry!" His protégé' pointed to the top of the hill. "There they are."

As the rescue party cleared the crest of the small hill, there was an explosion, followed by a fireball and thick black smoke.


	4. Chapter 4

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 4

The blast from the car swept the emergency personnel forward, but they did not fall nor drop the stretcher carrying Della.

Perry tried to rise too quickly and his head swam and his knee collapsed under him.

Ken hurried to catch him, along with the help of a fireman and assisted him back to the ambulance. Della was loaded into a second ambulance that had arrived because two victims had been reported initially, with undetermined injuries and severity.

Perry bellowed, "Wait, I'm going with her. Wait!"

Ken grabbed Perry by the arm, "No, Perry, come on these people want to take you to the hospital. You'll be right behind her, straight to the same hospital."

Ken looked to the attendant for confirmation.

The EMT replied, "Yes, St. Joseph. Sir, please let's get you inside and get you checked out."

Before he could begin a ferocious argument, the young lawyer, placed his hand on the older man's shoulder and said, softly but firmly, "Perry, you have to be able to take care of her. Now, let's go do what they're asking."

Perry, for once, was without words. He nodded, acknowledging the truth in Ken's words, and the young man climbed into the ambulance to go with him to the hospital.

.

******************P & D *********************

Paul rushed to the nurses' station, in St. Joe's Trauma Unit, sliding to a stop. "Where can I find Della Street? Perry Mason?"

"Sir," the matronly nurse looked at Paul as if he were gum on the bottom of her ivory shoes.

"Would you please take a seat, and we will get to you as soon as possible"

"Look, lady, my…_parents_ are here and I need to know where they are! How they are!

"They were in an accident a couple of hours ago, and I am not leaving here until I get some answers!"

The big boned nurse looked as if she was going to reach across the large desk and drag him over to stomp a mud hole in him and then walk it dry.

"Sir, this is the last time-"

"Paul!" Ken called from across the room.

The nurse drew a sigh of relief and rolled her eyes as she walked away.

"Ken, what is going on? Are they okay? Where are they?"

"I'm glad you're finally here. This is about the fifth time Perry has sent me down to find you. He's been trying to reach you since we got here," Ken said, taking Paul by the arm and dragging him along with him down the hall.

"Come on," he said. "Maybe you can calm him down."

Paul made a sound that was a cross between a snort and a laugh.

"Yea, well, you know as well as I do that there is only one person who can do that, and it _sure_ ain't me."

Ken led him to a cubicle with a curtain pulled across the opening. Inside, they found a very angry Perry Mason, who resembled a raging bull ready to gore anything within reach-and everyone was fair game.

"Find that damn doctor and get me to Della, now!" Perry bellowed at them as they entered.

"Paul!" Nice of you to show up—finally!"

"Perry, geez, I got here as soon as I found out. Where _is_ Della?"

Ken answered before Perry could get wound up again. "She's having an MRI, checking for anything worse than a concussion. She banged her head on the side window pretty hard, and she still hadn't regained consciousness the last we saw of her."

A young doctor entered the examining room. "Mr. Mason, you check out perfectly well, except for the knee, of course. I am going to give you two shots, one in each side—a corticosteroid and a strong anti-inflammatory. That along with the pain medication should get you through the next several days until the swelling goes down."

Brusquely, Perry commanded, "Then do it! I want out of here."

The doctor raised an eyebrow at his tone but wisely didn't comment.

The two shots looked extremely painful to Paul and Ken, yet Perry never flinched.

"Now, sir, if you will-"

"Are we done here," Perry asked.

"Well, yes, for now, but you will have to schedule—"

Perry stepped onto the stool beside the examining table and Ken reached an arm to help him.

Turning to the physician, Perry said, "Thanks. You know where to send the bill."

Walking him slowly back out to the nurses' station, the three men stood waiting to ask where they could find Della. The same threatening, irritable woman came to the counter.

"May I help you," she asked.

Perry leaned toward her and threw both _his_ massive size and _his_ blue glare of death over the files and charts between them.

"Where may I find Della Street? And I want to know _now_."

She told him.


	5. Chapter 5

The Best Part of Me: Chapter 5

The earplugs didn't alleviate the loud sounds of the MRI machine, and it only made the thundering headache Della had much worse.

Through the speakers in the tube, she heard the technician say, "Ma'am, you did great, perfectly still. We're ready to take you out now."

Della felt the large 'tray' that she was lying on slide out into a very brightly lit room. One of the technologists came over to help her sit up.

"How are you feeling," she asked.

"Well," Della said, "I have still have the headache, other than that, I think I'm fine."

"The doctor will read the report and be with you shortly. I am going to help you into this wheelchair, just in case, you get dizzy. Some of the medications make most patients a little wobbly at first." the tech said, after Della waved her hands and shook her head to refuse.

Della had just about had enough. "Would you please ask him to hurry? I have friends who will be worried and my….well, there was someone in the car with me that I'd like to check on."

"Sure thing," the young woman said.

As they rounded the corner to the MRI waiting area, the first thing Della saw was her three "boys." Perry, Paul, and Ken. All three looking lost and anxious.

"Are all these handsome men waiting for you, ma'am?"

Della's eyes teared up and she could barely say, "Yes, they are."

Awkwardly, Perry moved to rise to go to her, but Paul jumped up and moved Della's chair to him.

They leaned forward to take hold of one another. The others in the room left to afford them privacy.

"God, Della, I didn't know what to think." His embrace enveloped her for more than a long moment before releasing her, and even then they didn't turn completely loose of each other.

"I think I might have a concussion, but I was so worried about _you_," Della said, looking into his eyes. "Your knee?"

"Fine," he said, smiling, "Now that you're here, everything is just fine."

The doctor in charge of Magnetic Resonance Imaging entered as Perry's words were still hanging in the air. "Well, maybe not so fine for Mrs. Street. I'm Doctor Abe Johnson."

Leaning toward Perry, he said, "Mr. Street, nice to meet you."

Perry didn't waste time with pleasantries or corrections of common assumptions when came to their relationship, especially at their age.

"What is 'not so fine,' Dr. Johnson?" His voice boomed out, echoing into the hallway. Ken and Paul stood at the entrance to the small waiting room. The room and hall were empty except for the five of them.

"Mrs. Street, your head injury shows that you have a small blood clot between your brain and your skull. This is an unusual situation. Usually a blood clot will be in the brain, but this is between the sheath surrounding the brain matter and the skull itself. Actually, as dangerous as it sounds now, having it on the brain would be much worse. It is not large, and we would like to start you on blood thinners and keep you here overnight for observation. After another MRI or CAT scan tomorrow, if the clot shows shrinkage, you may go home with the medications to rest. I can't emphasize that enough. No heavy anything, working, lifting, stress, or….sex for at _least_ a week, if you make healthy progress.

The doctor actually looked embarrassed when he added the last. "And no driving until we see how you progress. It could affect your vision if driving. Certainly nothing physically demanding until I clear you medically."

Perry and Della sat silently, stunned.

"Do either of you have any questions?" Dr. Johnson asked.

"How dangerous is it? What are the odds it could get worse before it gets better?" Della asked.

"Odds are with you if you follow orders and the thinner works as it should."

He turned to Perry, "Mr. Street, do you have any questions?"

Perry put the doctor under intense scrutiny. "You are sure that it will most likely dissipate on its own; that the blood thinners will work. Because doctor," Perry leaned forward, and in an ominous voice, "If you are not, you'd best recommend someone else."

Perry Mason's eyes were like two deep blue lasers boring into the physician.

Dr. Johnson was stunned. "Sir, I assure you-."

"Don't assure me! You give her the best care possible. _And you make the room assignment for_ _two._ I am staying with her until she is discharged. I'm not sleeping in a chair with this bunged up knee. I'm sure staying here overnight will make my own doctor happy as well."

The attorney nodded as if it was settled and there would be no further argument.

"I don't think insurance will cover that, Mr. Street."

Perry smiled but it was a cold imitation of pleasantry.

He said, "Just take care of it, doctor, and to hell the insurance. I will pay it, in advance."

Dr. Johnson rose. "I think I understand, and I certainly I respect your desires to be with your wife. I'll arrange it. While you're waiting, Mrs. Street, I will have a nurse give you a shot for the headache."

Johnson left the room, and Perry took Della's hand in his. "It is going to be alright, baby. Do you mind if I step into the hall for to speak to Ken and Paul for a moment?"

Della nodded, and then regretted it immediately, "Of course not, Perry."

Trying to hide the struggle to get to his feet from Della, which was, of course, impossible, Perry walked to the hallway with Paul and Ken for privacy.

"No more! Whoever and whatever this is stops now! I don't care what you have to do or how you have to do it, but you find this person who hurt Della. Am I clear, gentlemen?"

Paul answered for both of them, "Crystal, Perry, crystal."


	6. Chapter 6

The Best Part of Me: Chapter 6

Della's dreams were jumbled, colorful, frightening and intense. When she fought her way to consciousness through the pain medication, her heart was beating so hard that it felt it was going to pound out of her chest.

She reached across the bed, trying desperately to find Perry but instead found herself alone. Her sense of time skewed by drugs. Day or night?

Managing to get out of bed and into the bathroom while her heart was finally slowing.

Della turned on the cold water and splashed her face repeatedly. At last the panicked feeling engendered by her dreams began to wane.

What was that all about? Where had all that come from? Pain meds, anxiety, and an empty stomach did not mix well.

The headache had made her nauseous, and she had turned down Perry's repeated attempts to find something palatable. Well, hindsight was 20/20, and, right now, Della just wanted to go back to sleep if possible.

Carefully making her way back into the bedroom, she collapsed thankfully onto the mattress and soft cottony sheets. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Della's eyes closed.

***************P&D************P&D**********************

Perry, Paul, and Ken were gathered around the kitchen table discussing the information that Ken and Paul had been able to collect during the last two days.

"This is it?" Perry threw the folders back onto the table, and the loose papers scattered down the length of it. "That's not good enough, dammit!"

He rubbed his hands across his tired eyes, then up through his hair, causing it to muss and stick out at odd angles. The older man's eyes were tired and he looked extremely stressed and aggravated.

Paul, Jr., tried to placate Perry, a task he knew was damn near impossible unless it was Della doing it. "Ken and I will continue to look, Perry. The LAPD are checking the car and will let us know what they find as soon as they get the results from the auto forensics lab. We're both prepared to stay here until something is settled or sorted out."

"Yea, Perry, what he said," Ken chimed in, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"We know you're not satisfied, and neither are we. We still haven't figured out if it's both of you that are being targeted or one of you.

" I mean, you've both been involved in most cases together and know most of the same people; you two are always together, and have been for the last 40 plus years, so it's hard to believe that it would be only one of you.

"If you have any suggestions, we're more than willing to check them out. But right now, there isn't anything suspicious about anyone who's been paroled or made bail in the last month," Ken finished.

Without looking up from the table, Perry said, "Go back further. This took time to plan, to find out where to find us, and to put into play. This isn't a prank; this crash was meant to be deadly.

"Whoever did this, he or she knew that either of us or usually both could be found here, and I seriously doubt they were after Della, unless it was to get back at me for something. Della has never hurt anyone in her life; she's incapable of it."

Ken spoke up, "Alright, Perry, we're on it first thing tomorrow morning, but now," the young lawyer checked his watch, "I don't know about Paul, but I need some sleep, and I know you do, too."

He tried to smile but failed miserably. Glancing at Paul, he left for one of the guest rooms.

"There's an LAPD car outside with two officers for the rest of the night. I think if we start out rested and fresh tomorrow it might keep us from overlooking something crucial." Paul reached out and put his hand on Perry's arm. The older man neither moved nor answered the gesture.

Finally, Paul said, "I'm going to go upstairs to check on Della." Leaving Perry sitting at the table, the phrase, 'an old lion in winter' ran through his mind. Paul's next thought was 'don't ever mess with a wounded lion.'

Paul silently entered the hallway outside Perry and Della's room, pausing to knock lightly on the door. No answer.

Pushing the door open, Paul could see his beloved Aunt Della seemingly asleep by the light of a small antique lamp on her dresser.

He entered and moved to her bedside listening for her breathing. Pulling over a small chair, Paul placed his hand on her shoulder to reassure himself that she was really alive by touching her and feeling her warmth.

"Della," Paul swallowed before continuing. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I, um, I couldn't go to sleep without checking on you. Perry is really worried. You know he's no good without you. He's so ornery _with_ you around that without you he's damn near impossible." He laughed quietly. "Della, you are the only mother I've had for as long as I can remember—" He dropped his blonde head down and leaned forward closer to her back. Not being able to see her face made it easier for him to speak again.

"Perry isn't the only one who's worried about you. I am. Ken is. Della, please be alright. I know I'm a grown man and I'll probably never measure up to dad in Perry's eyes, but I've always known that I was special to you. You always made sure I knew that and I, well, I don't know if I really ever told you enough that I love you and if something happened to you, it would be like losing—" He stopped, tears starting to spill from his eyes. "It's just, well, I need you, Della. Please don't leave me, too." Paul placed his head in his hands, unable to continue.

He wasn't aware of her turning around, just of her hand rubbing the top of his head, her fingers through his curly hair just like when he was little. Embarrassed by his tears, Paul didn't look up right away.

Della whispered in that gentle mellifluous voice, "Paul, you're the only son that I will ever have. I have always known that you love me. Your father would be so proud of the man you've become. And Perry," she laughed low, "Perry loves you, but he doesn't know quite how to deal with you. You're a different generation, a different type of man than Perry and your father, and that's okay. I love the man you are—gentle, sweet, talented, and _so_ charming."

Paul raised his head and he could see Della's dark eyes wet with unshed tears. He took her outstretched hand. "I love you, Della. I'm going to find out who hurt you."

Della gave him that sweet undimmed smile which he'd always known. "I know you will, and, Paul, and I love you, too. Always have. Always will."

Paul got up from the chair and kissed the top of her head gently. "Can I get you anything, Beautiful?"

"No, go to bed. Get some rest. I'll be fine, just fine."

Squeezing her hand once more, Paul rose to leave and paused in the doorway, and looked back once more. "Good night."

"Night, Paul. Sleep tight."

He gave her that little grin of his that was so like his father's as he left and headed back down the stairs, still emotional and without seeing Perry standing behind him in the darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 7

Perry entered the bedroom after he had waited in the shadows of the hallway for Paul, Jr, to go back down the small flight of stairs.

Pushing open the door, he disrobed, found his pajamas, brushed his teeth and headed for his side of the bed.

He could barely make out Della's features in the dim lighting. Perry reached out to gently brush her hair back from her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Hey, baby. How are you feeling?"

"To be honest, Perry, a little drunk or high or whatever it's called these days."

She gave him a mischievous grin. "Not too shabby, but I don't recommend the headache to go with it."

"Is there anything you need or want, water, another blanket?" Perry asked.

"No, I'm fine." Della cleared her throat. "Were you by chance standing in the hallway eavesdropping while Paul was in here?"

"Not on purpose. To tell you the truth, I didn't pay any attention to where he said he was going and when I walked up to the door, I could tell I was about interrupt something that I shouldn't." Perry trailed his fingers along her upper arm gently. "That boy loves you, Della."

"Perry, he's not a boy. He's a man, but you still treat him like a boy. You don't always afford him the respect that you do Ken." There was no judgment in her words, just fact.

The attorney was quiet for a few minutes. So was Della. If Perry was a tad irritated with her, he was going to have to deal with it. The effect of the drugs had made her freer to approach certain topics than she might normally be.

But when Perry answered her, it wasn't with anger, just a twinge of frustration. "Del, I don't _know_ how to treat him sometimes. When I look at him, I still see that little boy that wanted all your attention and let me know, most assuredly, that I was in the way."

He laughed under his breath at the memory. "And, his 'hobbies' sometimes get in the way of what I consider—what he should consider—his livelihood."

Della reached gently to touch Perry's grizzled cheek. "If I remember correctly, that didn't bother you when Big Paul did it."

"That's different. Paul knew how important it was to maintain his agency's reputation, and he could separate play from work."

The woman by his side laughed low, "Oh, really, Counselor, well, would you care to explain the existence of Little Paul?"

Perry held up his right hand in surrender, his girth vibrating with quiet laughter.

"You win. I have to give you that one. Maybe I am too hard on him. Maybe I'm too hard on him because he was—and still is—after my girl."

The older man moved closer to the love of his life and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Maybe it is nothing but jealousy. A silly old man's jealousy at having anyone else have any of your attention but me. After all, 'Little Paul' has been the only serious competition that I've ever had."

"I rest my case," Della murmured softly, the drugs and stress of the past few days catching up with her. "Sometimes, I wish….I just like to feel he's ours, Perry. Do you? Do you think that may be why you're so hard on him?" Her voice was filled with a longing that was rarely shown.

Her lover couldn't think of any response to that. Perry had his regrets. Regrets he never voiced because it hurt too much to acknowledge that there was no do-over for their past, for children they may have had. A little Della...

Perry moved her close to his side.

Having Della hurt and seeing her in the car with blood on the window and realizing he no longer had the strength to get her out was a blow to his manhood. Perry was realizing his limitations, physically, and he didn't like it. At all.

Maybe if they had-stop! Perry cut himself off before he could start down the 'might have been' road. Wasted time. He had to deal with what was now, just like everyone did. Just as James Joyce said, "The present is the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past." And if you throw that away, the present, you have nothing.

Della's soft breath and the gentle beating of her heart against his side was most assuredly something. The most important something in his life.

As for Della, resting against her mountain of a love, she felt protected and loved and not worried at all, a combination of a lifetime of trust and good pain medication.

Perry felt her relax, and he pulled her against him, as if to shield her from the world. He let his sharp mind, which had not been damaged by age, but only honed to a finer edge, sort through their past, decade by decade, case by case. Who would do this? Risking injury or death to both of them?

The two of them had encountered their share of evil and apathy in their career together. One thing was definite: someone had a grudge, but sorting out 'who' was going to be difficult unless he or she left something to help them identify the perpetrator. Uncovering the truth and murderers did not make Perry popular. He had had to turn over a lot of rocks, allowing a lot of snakes to crawl out, before finding the truth in his work. The kinds of people who lived under rocks did not like the light that Perry, and Della by extension, had shone on them, but who hated them enough to want to possibly kill them?

Closing his eyes, Perry decided to allow his unconscious mind to work on it for a while. Right now, he had someone to whom he'd rather turn his undivided attention.

Breathing in the scent that was uniquely Della, her essence and Chanel, the master of the courtroom lay back and allowed his chin to gently rest against her curly hair while she slumbered safely, enveloped in his strong arms.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Loud knocking woke Perry from a deep sleep. It was still dark outside, but he couldn't see the clock past the lamp on Della's bedside table. It was probably one of the deputies outside checking in on them or perhaps there was news.

The pounding persisted, getting stronger, reverberating now throughout the house. Dammit, why wasn't one of them answering the door; the noise would wake Della.

Easing his arm from under her head, Perry gently allowed her to slip onto the pillow. She didn't stir or awake.

The knocking was increasing in intensity. What was going on? Was something wrong downstairs? Were Paul and Kenneth alright?

Grabbing his robe, Perry carefully made his way downstairs and noticed that there were no lights outside, either from the security light or police flashlights or strobes, but the pounding on the wooden door seemed to have intensified.

He simply couldn't fathom why Ken or Paul hadn't answered the door; all seemed in order.

Perry flipped the switch for the porch light and looked through the peep hole. There was a figure of a man standing outside, just out of the light.

Stepping back, the attorney reached into the drawer of a cherry secretary and withdrew a .38 Smith & Wesson. Holding it down to his side and slightly behind him, he yanked the door open in the midst of a barrage of knocks.

There was no one there.

What in the hell was going on? Perry stepped out onto the porch and noticed the police car with two officers at the curb. They looked as if they were talking and drinking coffee.

The older man started to step off the porch and go toward the car when the sound of a throat clearing behind him caused him to whip his head around.

My God! Perry grabbed the rail running alongside the porch to keep himself from falling.

The white hair was unmistakable, as was the trench coat.

"Paul! My God, man, is it you?"

The smoke from the cigarette he held in his hand was drifting lazily up and around his smiling face.

"Hello, Perry. How's tricks?"

For one of the few times in his life, Perry Mason was totally and absolutely speechless.

"Cat got your tongue? I can understand that. I'm not here to debate or argue or explain. I have a suggestion: think back to the golden days in the city, you, me, Della—by the way, she still looks fantastic, you are a lucky man, pal—but, remember, there are some people who can hold grudges a long time. Some for _crazy_ reasons that normal people like you and me don't always understand and some need no reason at all."

Paul finished the cigarette with one final pull on it, tossed it to the ground and ground it out with the toe of his show.

"I know that's not much to go on, but we've had less and managed to solve cases, so hang in there. That's all I can tell you right now; maybe I can do more later. Gotta run."

His best friend turned to walk away into the darkness. Suddenly he turned back.

"The kid turned out pretty good, huh? Della did a great job—you didn't do too badly. Take care of your family, Perry."

Paul gave him a toothy grin and turned to walk off into the darkness.

Perry reached to grab his arm, but no one was there. "Paul! Wait! How-? Paul!"

He felt a hand on his back.

"Perry! Perry!" Della was alarmed and shook him, her nails digging into his arm.

As if he had been held underwater, the lawyer awoke, gasping for air.

"Della. Della! I'm awake. It's alright, baby."

Perry fell back onto the bed and pulled her down onto his great chest and into his arms.

"I'm okay. It was just a dream."

Della was trembling in his arms. "You were talking to Paul, and you sounded…like I've never heard you, Perry. Do you want me to go downstairs and wake him?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Baby, that wasn't the Paul who was with me."

PPPPPPPPPPPP&&&&&&&&&&&&&&DDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Perry was in his home office holding something in his hands, his back to the door, when Ken came in carrying a cup. When the older man heard him, he turned and set a picture face down on his desk.

"Thank you, Kenneth. Where's Paul?" His mentor was subdued this morning, strangely so.

"He's fixing breakfast for Della. Do you want me to get him?"

"No, no, thank you. I'll talk to him later."

"Perry, are you okay? You're kinda off kilter or something today. Is Della feeling worse?"

"No, she's fine. I'll talk to the both of you when he finishes." Dismissing him, Perry said, "Thanks again, for the coffee."


	9. Chapter 9

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 9

Paul and Ken settled into the leather chairs in front of Perry's antique desk, waiting for him to stop staring out the window and address them. Neither of them was eager to speak and create ripples in the current of whatever was washing over Perry this morning.

The attorney went to his chair and sat down heavily, folding his large hands in front of him. His blue eyes looked especially tired and hooded this morning, and he addressed them without preamble.

"I want you both to go back at least a year looking at parolees, releases from state institutions, arrest records and check them against records from my practice from the years 1957 through 1966. If you don't find anything, go back eighteen months."

"Is there any particular reason, Perry, that you want us to check those particular years in your files," Ken asked. "Something we've missed."

Perry's eyes were shadowy and his expression enigmatic. "Call it a hunch." When neither of them moved immediately, he snapped, "The faster you get started, the sooner you may find something."

After they left, the big man rotated his chair back toward the window, his face pensive.

"Good morning," Della spoke from the doorway, a smile on her lovely face. "May I enter, Counselor?"

The granite visage transformed instantly; the indigo eyes crinkled and the mouth metamorphosed from a grim line into a warm smile. "You, my dear, may enter anywhere at any time if I ever have anything to say about it."

Perry started to rise, but Della stopped him and moved to take the chair recently vacated by Paul.

She was dressed in a pale blue satin robe and had a touch of makeup on which encouraged him to think she felt better this morning. When he had departed their bed earlier, she had been sleeping soundly. Perry noted with slight annoyance that the cat had followed her into his office.

"Is there any reason that Paul and Ken left here with what amounted to their tails tucked between their legs?" Della asked quietly.

Perry's mood became more sober. "No." He averted his eyes from hers.

Festus jumped up into Della's lap and began to purr as she stroked him.

"Are you sure," she gently prodded. "You do look like a man who has...perhaps, seen a ghost."

Perry jerked his head sharply back to her kind face. "What?"

"I remember what you said last night—about Paul. Want to talk about it?"

He rose from his chair and went to sit beside her and took her hand tenderly in his and said, "Sweetheart, it was—I dreamed Paul was here." Perry smiled boyishly, "He was so real. His voice, same coat, and I could even smell the cigarette smoke. By the way, he said to tell you that you were still beautiful and you'd done a good job with 'the boy.' "

At this, Della blushed and laughed, "Well, Paul always had good taste."

The attorney leaned back and shook his head as if to clear cobwebs, but still he was smiling. "I know it sounds foolish, but as disturbingly real as it was, it was strangely reassuring."

Della placed her hand softly on his arm and gently laughed. "You know, Perry, as odd as it is, it makes me feel better as well, to think he's still there, looking out for us."

"Della," Perry said, changing the subject, "Do we have any files stored that haven't been placed on computer files yet or that aren't stored downtown, where I sent Paul and Kenneth to look earlier? Ones that may have been boxed up, and for all intents and purposes, forgotten, when we closed up shop the first time?"

Her beautiful face looked thoughtful. "Actually, Perry, there were several that I didn't leave downtown; I either wasn't sure that was the last of the litigation or there was something about them that, well, that still bothered me for some odd reason. As a matter of fact, they," she gently cleared her throat, "Are upstairs in the attic."

Perry gave her a smile of pure adoration. "That's my girl!"

*************P&D***********P&D***************P&D** *********************

Perry replaced the cordless phone on the charger.

"That was Kenneth. They'll be here with lists of state parolees and arrest records later tonight. So far they haven't found anything that matches up with any of our records downtown with the ones they've amassed."

Della 'hmmed' at him, from the sofa, absent-mindedly. The cat lay across the back of the couch, lazily flicking his tail.

"Della?" Perry made his way to the sofa. "Are you listening?"

She was looking through one of the boxes that Paul had brought down from the attic earlier, when Perry had called them within minutes of their earlier departure.

She had started pulling the files, which were in alphabetical order, and was lost in the notes and memos of one. The contents were strewn across the table and her lap.

Perry watched her gently chew on her lower lip, concentrating, and transported back almost four decades. Her cheeks and neck were flushed and he stood admiring her. Today, she had dressed in a pink cotton shirt and white slacks. Her pink sandals were scooted under the oversized coffee table, and she was wiggling her toes, like she did when she was content and lost in her work.

"So, you agree that Friday, around 2:00, will be fine to go downtown to get the marriage license?"

"Um, huh. Whatever you want, Perry."

"Then on for a month long honeymoon, stopping by Hawaii, on to Tahiti, and then wrapping up in Ireland."

"Sounds wonderful, Chief."

Perry smiled and closed his eyes simultaneously. He moved to sit down beside her.

Festus was not pleased at having to share the sofa, and after he and Perry exchanged "stink eyes," the tom cat leapt down and disappeared, flicking his long tail angrily.

"Fine, I'll take care of the details. Found anything interesting yet?"

She cut her beautiful eyes at him and gave him a smile that melted his knees, "I had an idea, Perry. What if we begin by eliminating people who would have been under 30 years old at the time we handled their cases. That way, by now, they would still, theoretically, be young enough to pull off some of the things that have happened to us."

"That's a good idea, but just suppose they're older and have hired someone to do their dirty work."

Her pretty mouth twisted into a peeved pout, "I didn't say it was a perfect idea, just a start."

Perry placed a large hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her close.

"Have I told you, Miss Street, that you smell wonderful today?"

"Nooo." Della dropped her eyes, but fluttered her lashes.

"Have I told you that I think you look beautiful in that color?"

"Yes, Counselor, but I never tire of hearing your compliments."

"Compliments? Baby, these are my sweet nothings with which I am trying to charm you."

"Why would you have to charm me? Don't you already have me?" Della met his deep blue eyes with her own smoky ones. She unconsciously brushed her tongue along her bottom lip.

"My beautiful girl, I may 'have' you, but I intend to keep you with me for a long, long time. To do that, I want to make sure you know that I think, no, _I know_, you are the most beautiful woman in the world."

Della began to shake her head, but Perry stopped her.

"No. Don't. You are the most beautiful, loving, most intelligent woman that I have ever known. And I do not intend to allow you to get away from me."

The elderly attorney planted a soft, gentle kiss on Della's lips.

"Butterfly kisses, Counselor? _From you_?"

"A man is never too old to change or to appreciate the beauty in his life. Or to decide that he doesn't have to charge through life like a Saint Gertrudis bull tearing down everything in his path. Maybe, a man can finally realize that gentle people need gentle handling. Something that I haven't always done very well."

"A _man_, Perry?" Her soft eyes looked at him with such love that for a moment that he couldn't speak.

"Not ' a man', me. I have gotten more difficult as I've gotten older. I know it, and you know it. You deserve better." His dark blue eyes became teary. "You've always deserved better."

Della wrapped her strong slender arms around his neck and kissed him again. "You know, Chief, you may be right. But I love you." She pulled back and gave him a wicked smile.

"You!" He almost lifted her from her seated position to put her on her back, and leaning on his elbow beside her, they began to engage in some serious petting when an unfamiliar throat being cleared loudly brought their affectionate play to a screeching halt.


	10. Chapter 10

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 10

Perry could see quite plainly who stood in the doorway of the living room and didn't look the least embarrassed as he helped Della to sit up straight on the sofa, so she could see their unannounced visitor. Her face blushed pink when she saw who it was.

Perry rose to greet her, "Yvette, how lovely to see you. Please have a seat."

Mrs. Hamilton Burger's face was also pink as she explained her sudden appearance, "I'm so sorry for barging in like this, but I knocked at the kitchen door and no one answered. The young policeman told me you were in the kitchen so I assumed you didn't hear me, and I came through…." Yvette trailed off, blushing again at catching them in flagrante delicto lover's play.

Della pulled herself together, along with her blouse, buttoning it hurriedly.

"Let me get us some cool drinks and you can tell me all about what's been going on with you," Della rose and burned a trail to the kitchen and out of sight.

"Perry, I am sorry for—"

"Don't worry about it. It's not the first time we've been caught not acting our age." Perry's eyes twinkled at her. "How are you doing?"

Yvette Burger sat across from him. Tall and still quite attractive, though unable to hold a candle to Della, Perry thought she's aged well. Hamilton's death had hit her quite hard.

"Healthy, enjoying the grandchildren. I actually came by to check on you and Della. I saw the accident reported in the papers, and I'm glad neither of you were injured too badly," she said, her brows drawn together in concern.

Perry's eyes grew serious. "Actually, Della's injury was more serious than mine, but she seems to be recuperating nicely."

Della reentered the room carrying a tray laden with lemonade and cookies. Placing it on the table, she said, "It is so nice to see you. How are Benjamin and Elena?"

Yvette smiled openly now, Della having hit upon a topic that she loved to discuss, her grandchildren. "Benjamin is at USC studying geology, and Elena is finishing up at Berkley, international law. Their parents are very proud of them."

The older lady smiled, revealing sparkling eyes and dimples that were still striking, reminding Perry of the young beauty that she had been when married to Hamilton.

"I imagine their grandmother is also very proud," Della smiled, placing her hand on Yvette's.

"I am Della; I really am. I know that Hamilton would have been as well."

Perry spoke up, "I know that he certainly would have!"

After small talk about the children and people they knew in common, Mrs. Burger picked up her purse and prepared to leave.

"Please, stay for dinner. We'd love to have you," Della exclaimed.

"No, no, I have plans for this evening, and I don't want to impose. This was just a quick stop to check on the two of you."

"You wouldn't be imposing," Della insisted, but Yvette just shook her head.

"Well, I'll see you out," Della said.

"Perry, it's always good to see you."

Perry stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. "You know you're welcome anytime, Yvette." She smiled, and then followed Della.

As the door closed behind them and they continued down the walk, Mrs. Hamilton stopped to admire Della's roses. "I don't know how you do it, Della." There was more than a touch of envy in her voice.

Della shrugged, "Oh, it's as much Perry as me. He takes care of the insects, and I take care of the fertilizing and black spot-oh, and talking to them." She laughed aloud.

"No, honey, I don't mean the roses," she said. "I mean you and Perry."

"_What_?" Della was surprised. Yvette was a very private person and had never shared an intimate confidence.

"You and Perry." She sounded wistful. "I'm jealous, Della, plain and simple. I miss Hamilton so much, even after all this time. You and Perry-you are still so much in love," Yvette laughed.

" I always thought you two were perfect for each other and could never figure out why you didn't marry. Maybe you did the right thing." She off looked across the wide green landscaped lawn. "You're still together, still happy."

She pulled Della close suddenly, "You kept the magic. Maybe I can find it again. I have a date tonight. It's about time; don't you think? It's been more than a few years."

Yvette seemed suddenly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I sound like a school girl."

"Oh, I think it's very exciting, and you deserve some happiness. " Della smiled. "Call me. I want to know every detail."

"I will, Della. I really will." Still smiling, she waved at Della as she drove away.

**********************************P&D************* ***********************

When Della reentered the house, she found Perry studying a menu.

"What shall it be tonight, my beautiful girl? Chinese, Italian, or Greek?"

Without answering, Della walked up to him and throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled him down and kissed him, long and passionately.

Perry's bushy eyebrows nearly met in a deep V in the middle of his forehead. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Perry asked when he finally took a breath.

Della didn't answer, but held Perry close and tight. Pulling back a bit, he tilted her face up to find tears in her eyes.

"What is this? I don't think trying to decide what to order for dinner should be a cause for tears." Perry smiled at her, while holding her chin up with one large finger. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Yvette. We are so lucky to still have each other for this long. To still be together and so happy." Della raised her hazel eyes, framed by dark thick lashes, to his concerned blue ones. "I love you, Perry. I always have, from the first day I met you until I breathe my last. I want your eyes to be the last I see, your lips to be the last I kiss, and I can only pray that I go first so I will never have to know what Yvette Hamilton feels. I would be lost without you. I'm not sure I could go on; you've been my entire reason for being for so long." She clutched him to her, sobs wracking her body.

Perry tightened his hold, and for the first time, he felt mortality touching them both. "You will never be without me, Della. If I have anything to say about it, you will never be without me."

"She's seems so lost Perry, so lonely for so long." Tears lingered on her long dark lashes.

"Why don't we go upstairs before dinner?. It's been a long week."

Gently guiding her upstairs, he helped her lie down on their king sized bed. He removed both her shoes then his own. The burglary, the accident, Della's injury, all of it had culminated in an emotional time, not just for Della. What hurt her also hurt him.

Perry lay back and Della placed her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

"With all we've been through Del, even being apart, we have been blessed. I know that. You are my family. You and Paul and Ken. You, baby, are all I've ever needed, no matter how stupid I've been through the years."

"I know, Perry. I know."

The afternoon sun settled over them as they took comfort in each other's arms.

.


	11. Chapter 11

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 11

The four of them finished off their meal in relative silence that evening.

Paul and Ken were tired from pulling reports, researching public records and comparing notes to Perry's old client list. Della and Perry were each lost in their own thoughts.

"I feel like my eyes have been burned through to the back of my head," Ken said, rubbing his hand across face. "And that doesn't include the headache that I have _right here_," he said, indicating his forehead.

"Yea, and not a single match. Nada," Paul retorted. "But on the bright side we eliminated quite a few names. Most of them are deceased or have retired to a life relatively free of crime."

Della said, "By narrowing it down, that's progress, isn't it? Besides it's been fairly quiet over the last week. I'd like to hope whomever it was has moved on or gotten whatever grudge they had out of their system and it's all over."

Perry looked up at her. His expression was indecipherable.

Paul reached over and touched her hand, "I hope you're right, but I think we'd all rest better having them caught." He looked over at the big attorney, who appeared to be studying his meal more than necessary.

"Uh, Perry, the police aren't going to keep a presence here indefinitely," Paul ventured forth.

"Don't you think I don't know that?" The attorney barked at him and slammed his fist on the table. His sudden show of temper caught them all by surprise.

"I am also well aware that you two have managed to turn up absolutely nothing so far." The last statement was practically a growl.

Shoving his chair back from the table, he mumbled, "Excuse me," and walked out the door and into the backyard.

Paul turned to Della, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to set him off."

Della had turned her head to watch Perry make his way to one of the old fashioned double wooden gliding chairs and ease himself down. She released a long held sigh.

She knew why his reaction had been so strong, but she didn't make excuses for Perry Mason. She didn't need to or have to. He was who he was.

"He must have been an ass to you all day, Della. Honestly, I don't know how you put up with his moods and temper," Paul added, as he raised his fork to eat a bite of pie.

The sound of her slap reverberated throughout the room followed by the sound of silverware hitting the floor.

Shocked, Ken looked at Della.

Paul's cheek held an imprint of her hand.

Never had she ever struck him in his life. He didn't know whether he was angrier, shocked, or hurt.

Della rose to her feet. "Don't you _ever, ever_ say anything like that again! That man, that_ ass_, out there has been the only father you have had since you were ten years old. That _ass_ out there is one of the finest minds in criminal law."

By now angry tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice deepened as she said, "That ass out there is the most loving man I have ever known. He would give his life for me, as I would for him-as he would for you."

She leaned down closer to Paul, "I love you, but if you ever disrespect Perry in my presence like that again-"

Placing her hand over her mouth, Della stopped before saying something that she would forever regret.

Reaching for Perry's glass and grabbing her own, she followed him outside.

**********************P&D************************* ***************************

Della's big bear was leaned back in his seat, watching the evening sky, while lightening bugs flitted and glittered like tiny fairy torches all over the grass and through the foliage.

He watched her leave the house; it was too dark to see her expression clearly, but he knew that angry walk. She stopped on the patio and turned on the radio to an oldies' station. The dulcet sounds of Sam Cooke's _These Foolish Things_ swept across the lawn.

"May I join you, Counselor? I come bearing libation."

He patted the seat beside him on the double glider.

She handed him an icy glass. Taking a sip from hers, she exhaled heavily..

"It's nice out here tonight," she said.

"Mmm. It is," his deep voice answered.

"We chose well, didn't we? The house?"

"We did. We chose very well," he said softly, placing his arm around her shoulders. "I chose well."

Della leaned her head against his massive shoulder. There was companionable silence as they listened to the baritone of Ben E. King and _Stand By Me_.

"I know what you're going to say," he muttered.

"What am I going to say," she whispered.

"I was too hard on the boys—excuse me, Paul and Kenneth."

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"Nope."

"Mmm," Perry muttered, surprised. "Why do I get a pass?"

"I didn't say that 'you got a pass,' I just said I wasn't going to say what you thought I was going to say." There was a gotcha smile in her voice.

For the first time all day, he felt his shoulders relax.

Otis Redding sang _That's How Strong My Love Is._

"Perry," Della said softly, placing her hand on his thigh and leaning back to look at the stars. "I know that you are cantankerous when you are worried, and where I am concerned, well, you tend to let your emotions get the best of you these days."

"I didn't used to." Perry said, knowing it was a lie, but he appreciated the 'out' she had offered in her comment.. He sucked in a deep breath and admitted what she already knew.

"It never really sunk in that we would reach this age. Our lives back then seemed so timeless and golden; we were invincible. I didn't imagine Paul would be gone so young. When Yvette showed up today, I relieved Hamilton's death, and then when you came inside, teary eyed and upset-."

Perry pulled his arm from around her and leaned forward, getting to the crux of his anger.

"I can't even protect you—can't walk worth a damn. I'm so big I can hardly move. I certainly didn't anticipate I'd be so physically worthless!"

Perry waited for comforting words from Della, but there was only silence. He glanced at her and was surprised to see that she was smiling at him.

"Woman, I bear my soul to you and you _smile_?" Perry tried to use the arm of the glider to rise indignantly, but it moved, and he fell back into the seat in a much undignified manner.

Della laughed loudly and threw her arms around him, holding him there.

"I can't believe that the same man who has slept in my bed since the Rat Pack ruled Hollywood would call himself 'physically worthless.' I damn sure wouldn't," she added the last part in a low sensual tone. "Now, Counselor, if you would allow me to change venue, say to our room, I could properly present a defense to this terribly untrue charge."

Perry leaned forward and kissed her tenderly then passionately. "How do you always know the right things to say?"

"I don't. I only know what to say to you."

"I love you, Miss Street."

Perry replaced his arm, and Della leaned back against him.

They glided to Ella Fitzgerald singing _Make Love to Me._


	12. Chapter 12

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 12

Della was working at her desk in the study, separating cases, correspondence, and letters. She had been up since one am, tossing and turning. Something she couldn't quite pin down kept niggling at her. That and slapping Paul earlier in the day.

When she and Perry had returned from outside, both men had already gone to their rooms for the night. Della regretted what she'd done and yet did not. Paul deserved it, but she loved him and wanted peace between them.

Finally! She found the paper for which she was searching.

A release form from the Ashbury Psychiatric Hospital dated nine months earlier had jarred something in her mind. Della couldn't quite put her finger on it, so here she was digging back through the case files trying to find whatever it was that might spark her memory and help her connect up the dots.

The name on the form was Kirk Allison. Kirk Allison. Why did that play on the fringes of her mind, dancing just out of reach? Allison.

"Della!"

She jumped, startling Festus who lay sprawled out on top of the laptop, taking advantage of the warmth. The cat jumped up scattering papers over the desk and floor and overturning a container of paper clips.

"My God, Perry! You don't have to sneak up on me_ and_ yell." She took her hand off her chest, her heart still beating wildly.

"Sorry," he said. "I woke. You were gone. I was worried." He leaned against the doorframe and appreciated her beauty even at this hour of the morning.

Della leaned her elbows on the desk and rested her head on her hands. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes, that should be rather obvious; I'm here to take you back upstairs." He reminded her of a little boy who was missing his favorite teddy bear. All that was missing was the stuck out lip.

She laughed. "Do I get a say in this?"

"No." Perry held out his hand and smiled. His dimples were her downfall.

Festus gracefully leapt to the hardwood floor from the sofa where he had taken refuge, fully intending to accompany his mistress.

"No, sir. Not tonight, Deputy."

Della chuckled and took his proffered hand and walked around the desk.

Perry kissed the top of her head, then her forehead, finally wrapping his arm around her, and leading her back to bed, making sure that the tom cat didn't follow them upstairs. No sharing tonight, pardner.

****************************P&D******************* *****

The sun hadn't broken the horizon yet; the bluish gray early morning light was coming through the skylight above Perry and Della's bed. They lay front to back with Perry's immense arms wrapped around Della. Their bodies looked as if they had morphed into one being during the night. Della held Perry's hand and pulled it up fast to her breast, almost under her chin, holding him closely even in her sleep.

Perry was awake suddenly, vigilant. Someone was in the room. Holding still so as not to alert anyone that he was awake, his eyes scanned the darkness, searching for a threat.

The door inched open, and Paul, Jr., stuck his head through the crack. Catching Perry's eyes, he motioned with his head for Perry to leave the room and join him in the hall.

Without showing his trepidation, the older man released Della softly. He knew Paul would never violate their private sanctuary, occupied by both of them at once, if it wasn't important.

Perry didn't bother with his robe, but quietly opened to the door and stepped into the hallway. There he found Ken and Paul waiting.

Without saying a word, Paul handed him the _LA Times. _On the front page there was a picture of Yvette Delacroix Burger, above it the day's headline screamed, **'Former LA** **County Prosecutor's Wife Found Brutally Slain**.'

****************************P & D**************************************

Perry finished reading the article for the third time and finally folded the paper so that he no longer had to look at Yvette's smiling face. Now, no longer smiling. Now, no longer alive.

Paul and Kenneth were sitting silently across from him drinking coffee that the young PI had brewed after the three of them came downstairs together.

"From the information in the paper, Mrs. Burger apparently wasn't murdered by an intruder but by someone she allowed willingly into her home." Kenneth remarked, not taking his eyes from the coffee cup, as though it held tea leaves, which would help him predict the future and avoid further harm.

Perry grunted, "It certainly appears that way." He brushed his hand across his thick beard, blue eyes steady but unsettled.

"Yvette was here yesterday."

"What?!" Paul almost yelled. "Why?"

"She told Della and me that she stopped by to check on us. She didn't stay long; we invited her for dinner but she said no. Della walked her out."

Kenneth spoke up, "Maybe she mentioned something to Della? Her plans for last night?"

"Perhaps," Perry said, remembering how distressed that she had been after talking to Yvette outside.

"I'll wake her," Paul said, starting to rise from the table.

"No! I'll tell her. I don't want her finding out down here with all of us watching and grilling her for information. I would like you to find out who is working the murder case and call them. Tell them we may have information about Mrs. Burger's whereabouts yesterday.

"Then I want one of you to explain the situation to the officers outside and have them contact the detective working the accident. This could be likely connected, if not, it's a hella big coincidence. After that, just wait here until I come back down, please."

Neither of the younger men spoke, just nodded their heads that they understood.

Perry headed back to the bedroom, his heart in his throat.

Closing the bedroom door behind him, he slid back into bed with his love, his woman. She stirred and moved into his embrace.

She sniffed him. He smiled. She always told him that she could pick him out in a cave ten miles underground by his unique scent. Perry had laughed and remarked that he needed to bathe more often then. Della had told him she was just making sure he was hers. He smiled at the memory.

Kissing her face, he softly rubbed down her arm, which was uncovered and watched as small bumps rose on her flesh. She moaned and moved into him closer.

"You're awake early, Counselor," Della said in that smoky early morning voice, without opening her eyes. "Could I interest you in some predawn romance?"

"Always, baby, but not today."

Something in his voice made her senses go on high alert, and she rose to lean back against the cherry headboard, taking in his face. Perry was trying to appear composed, but Della had watched that face for forty years, knew every nuance of it and his voice.

Slightly breathless, she whispered, "What's happened? My God! Is it Paul? Or Kenneth?"

Perry placed his hand on the side of her face, "No, no, they're fine. They're downstairs."

"Thank God! Then what is it, Perry? What's happened?" Her hazel eyes were dark with anxiety and unease.

He was sitting up by now and Perry took hold of her shoulders and told her the truth, "Yvette Burger was murdered last night."

Perry watched her absorb the news, too stunned to reply.

Della's eyebrows pulled together in a 'V' and she clutched at his arm, "Are you sure? Perry, no!"

Pulling her to him, the lawyer said, "I'm sure, baby. It's all over the _Times_ this morning. Paul and Kenneth came over first thing to let us know. I'm sorry."

She buried her head in his shoulder and clung to him. "How can this be? Is this our fault because she was simply here?"

Perry pushed her back far enough to look into her face, "NO! This is not our fault. Whoever did this obviously has some sociopathic agenda if it is connected to us. Hell, it may be connected somehow vaguely to all of us, you, me, Paul, Hamilton, Tragg; I just don't know what to believe anymore. But I do know it isn't OUR fault that Yvette is dead and I won't hear anything else about that."

He pulled her back into his massive chest and held her close. "No, this is not our fault." But deep down, until they knew why this was happening, Perry honestly couldn't be sure.

"I need to know, Della, did she tell you anything about her plans for last night?"

Emotionally rattled, she had to think, "Yes, yes, she did. She had a—a date. She was excited about it, about moving on. She was happy for us and I think she wanted someone in her life again." Della grew quiet.

"Was that it, Perry? Just a set up by whomever this is threatening us? It has to be—what else makes sense?" Her soft doe-like eyes implored him to tell her that she was wrong.

"I don't know, baby. But the police will be here soon to ask some questions, so let's get dressed, fed, and collected by the time they get here."

He held her arms tightly. "Whatever this is, Della, we're going to be safe. I promise you."

She didn't look up at him. Still shocked by his news.

"Do you believe me?" He leaned his head down close to her cheek so that his beard brushed her soft skin. "Do you think I would ever let anyone harm you if I could help it," Perry whispered softly.

Pulling him close, his love and partner of four decades, replied forcefully, "No, I don't. No more than I would allow anyone to hurt you!"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Yvette Burger's funeral was a sad and solemn affair, as was to be expected. There is always an added air of despair when someone is killed so abruptly—and so brutally. If death is brought on by an illness or accident, survivors will bandy about the word 'fate' or that it was inevitable. With murder, there is a loss of security and faith in humanity, in the order and rightness of the universe. No explanation suffices when atrocities appear as random as to defy explanation.

The Burger family was stricken with both grief and incredulity that their mother and grandmother had been the victim of such a vicious crime. The fact that the details of such a pillar of society and motherly figure's demise was now splashed all over the pages of every California newspaper and tabloid was more than shocking, not just to her family, but to the justice establishment as well.

It was vile and it was voyeuristic.

Hamilton Burger had been a timeless, legendary figure in Los Angeles County, with a record number of successfully prosecuted cases and a sterling personal reputation to match. His legal matches with Perry Mason were legendary, with Burger losing almost every time he came up against Mason.

Regardless of their professional relationship in the courtroom, Mason was a stalwart supporter of Burger's, especially after his final run for DA of Los Angeles County failed, mostly due to dirty campaigning by his opponent. Shortly thereafter, Burger was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer.

In his final days, Perry and Della had provided all the financial assistance that the Burger's would allow, even college tuition for their two children, and then, eventually, Perry delivered Hamilton Burger's eulogy.

Today, the Burger family was mourning their matriarch, and Perry and Della were grieving with them, accompanied by Paul and Kenneth. Their unique family sat behind the Burger's and their suffering was as palpable.

Della was heartsick and nauseous. She suspected that whoever had slain Yvette was mostly likely the same person threatening them. She felt Perry's bearlike paw tighten on her own hand, giving her strength. Paul sat on her other side with his arm around her shoulders. Kenneth Malansky was surreptitiously eyeing the mourners, looking for anyone suspicious. He was not blinded by personal grief so his observations were not colored by loss, but by a fierce protectiveness for the second parents and brother with whom he had been blessed.

The men surrounding Della were sorry that Yvette Burger was dead, but they were ever so grateful that it was not the woman whom they all loved lying there in her coffin covered with lilies.

****************************P & D**************************************

Perry and Della sat in the limo facing Paul and Kenneth as it pulled away from the cemetery. No one spoke; no one had to. They all knew now to what lengths their unknown assailant would go. The driver had been instructed to take them to the Water Grill, on Grand Avenue.

Ironically, for so many years, Perry and Della had been so careful to hide their relationship, but they had decided several years ago to stop being held hostage to moirés that were part of their past. Still they were usually modest in their physical interactions when in public.

Della sat, dressed impeccably in a black knee length dress, V-necked, with ¾ length sleeves, and spectator pumps. She fingered the black pearls around her neck mindlessly while looking out at the window at the misting rain glistening on the streets. Her cheeks were pale, but her lipstick and makeup were flawless. Perry stared at her, a marvel at her age, hell, at any age.

Reaching over, the lawyer tenderly took her pale hand away from twisting the dark pearls and kissed her fingers. Tears glistened on her eyelashes and threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. Perry gave a slight tug, urging her to come to him. As if the young men weren't there, she fell into his arms and emitted a sob. He caressed the side of her hair with his lips and whispered in her ear. They were in their world alone now. She nodded and wrapped her free arm around his stomach holding on tightly.

Both the young men felt they should be somewhere else at the moment.

Paul's gut was wrapped into knots. God, he couldn't stand this! He wanted to find who was doing this and rip his or her damn head off.

In a few minutes, Della stopped crying and left her head lying against Perry's shoulder, with her eyes closed; she seemed spent. Soon the car stopped in front of the restaurant, and the driver got out opening the rear door.

Perry stepped out and reached a hand to Della. The doorman held an umbrella over their heads, leading them through the door and inside.

The somber group was led to a table near the right side of the restaurant where there was some privacy.

After being seated and perusing the menus, Della placed hers down with a heavy sigh.

"Young lady, you will order, or I will order for you, but either way, you're going to eat. You've hardly eaten for two days," Perry said in a low but firm voice.

"Fine," she rose, "Order for me, I'll be right back. I just need to check my face and wash my hands." She brushed her hand possessively over his shoulder and gave him a conciliatory look.

Placing his hand over hers quickly, he released her to go on her way.

Paul started to rise, and Perry's voice stopped him.

"Della is perfectly capable of going to the ladies' room alone, however," Perry raised his eyes above the menu, "It might not be amiss to wash your hands while she's there."

***************************P &D***************************************

"This may not be the best time to bring this up," Della started to say.

"But?" Perry asked.

"Does the name Kirk Allison mean anything to you?"

They were sitting in front of the fireplace, each with a cognac. The day had been emotionally draining, and they need some 'them' time.

"Vaguely….'Allison' does, but I would remember a client by that name."

He shook his aristocratic head, "Hell, I am surprised I remember my name, right now." The heavy lidded eyes were weary; that she could tell even if the fire was the only light in the room.

Della moved from her chair opposite his, and sat on the floor, in front of the fire, leaning her head against his legs, watching the flames flicker. Perry placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged the tight muscles there under the silk robe.

Finishing his drink, he placed the glass on the side table and leaned forward, allowing her to fall back into his front, his head over hers, while the flames licked over the logs, blue and yellow, up and down, popping and cracking. The comforting smell of burning wood and the light from the fire dancing around the room like a live thing.

"I am glad that we're alone tonight," she whispered. "Well except for the cruiser outside."

She shivered, remembering the reason it was there.

Instead of answering with words, the lawyer leaned forward and began trailing soft kisses down from behind her ear, down her neck. Her soft moans showed him that his efforts were appreciated.

"In view of our inevitable, uh, future entanglements, Miss Street, would you join me upstairs?" Perry's voice, which was normally low and very masculine, became downright husky.

"I will adjourn to the bedroom, Counselor."

Rising, she took his hand, and they were disrobing by the time they entered the bedroom. My Lord, _how long has it been_, she thought. She craved him, his closeness, and the desire was abruptly overpowering.

When Perry turned from placing his shirt on the chair, Della wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him down to her lips, exploring, probing, touching as if they had only a minutes to love a lifetime.

He returned her passion with equal ardor. By the time, they were on the bed, Perry was fully ready and Della clutched him to her feverishly, wrapping her slim long legs around his large frame and with surprising strength, she pulled him down between her legs.

Perry entered her in one smooth stroke, and Della grasped for him with all her might, using her legs to pull him closer, harder.

She ran her hands through his thick hair, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, whispering and then calling his name like a mantra. This man was her religion, her entire being at the moment. The feel of him and her desire for him had not diminished in all the years they had been lovers.

Their familiar intimate interactions and noises prevailed and sealed them in a world all of their own. Worries fell away; pain and fear became distant and nebulous, life and death no longer intimidating or worrisome. Had they died this moment, their life together would have been enough and they would have gone blissfully in each other's arms. It had been so long since the two had been apart, emotionally or physically, that they didn't know how to be separate anymore.

The bad San Francisco years were like a cancer on their relationship that had been exorcised and could not be allowed to return. Neither of them would speak of it anymore. To speak of it would recall the evil of the emptiness and the waste of time that they had spent apart, time thrown away.

Now all that mattered was the age old dance of love and soul combining two into one, entwining them just as they were. Perry felt Della begin to tense, grasping at him, whispering his name urgently. Then, her cry, loud, explosive, and primitive was followed by his release, and his voice crying out, "Oh, my God! Della. Oh, God."

They lay side by side, covered with sheen of sweat, sated. Della was barely aware, but she heard him whisper, "I love you. God, I love you so much," then tears, not hers, but his, streaming down his face.

The man, lawyer, lover, best friend, legend-everything that ever mattered in life to her was beside her. Pulling his great head into her soft bosom, she kissed away his tears and told him everything that he needed to hear and everything that she needed to say. Perry had always been her knight in shining armor and he still was.

It was like the first and the last time together. It was everything wonderful between them all rolled into one and it was overpowering in its intensity. It was everything good that could exist between a man and woman: pure, ageless, sacred, and eternal.

Those who thought only a piece of paper, legality, made a true union of lovers were fools. A true union of soul mates was only constructed and consecrated in the heart and soul where only God could see it in all its wonderful, glorious truth.

Perry raised his head and looked into her almond, hazel eyes.

"There was a time we would not have waited for something to come to us; we would have looked ourselves. Hell, ten years ago we would have." He took a deep breath.

"Tomorrow, we wait no longer. We're not helpless and it's time we stopped acting like we are."

Della looked at him, light in her eyes along with a slightly predatory look.

She smiled and touched her hand to his cheek. "I agree. Tomorrow, we become the hunters."


	14. Chapter 14

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 14

Della was working across from Perry the next morning, when suddenly, he looked up at her, and said, "Kirk Allison is not Kirk Allison. But you're right, Della, he is someone from our joint past. Can you find the file for Clare Allison, 1959 or 60?"

"Yes. One minute." She quickly sorted through the years and pulled 'Allison, Clare' out of the stack marked '1959.'

Taking it over to his desk, she leaned down and said, "What is it, Perry? What have you found?"

"Do you remember the little boy? What was his name? He was Lorraine Jennings' son."

Reaching down she flipped the pages forward, "Yes, here. David Selkirk. Everyone thought he had accidentally killed his father because he had been allowed to play with a real gun and didn't know that the weapon was loaded. His step-father had really killed his father, but allowed the boy's mother to think that David had done it."

Reaching for the psychiatric release record, Perry handed it to Della. "I think we have our prime suspect."

*************************P&D********************** *********************

The four of them were in the study, along with two detectives, Tovey who was handling the investigation into the attempt on Perry and Della's lives and Carmichael who was heading the investigation into Mrs. Burger's murder.

Carmichael was not impressed with what had been presented. "So you think this kid, well, man now, is unhinged enough to want to come after the two of you, Mrs. Berger, and maybe anyone else involved in this murder trial. Why? Convince me; this was a hellava long time ago."

Perry's voice was hard as he addressed the two detectives. Tovey was quiet and more introspective and appeared to be willing to listen to their theory, whereas, Carmichael was more seasoned and less likely to take input from 'civilians.'

"Read the psychiatric report for yourselves, gentlemen. He was released five weeks before the attempted break-in and the tampering with our car. Mr. Selkirk also has severe anger issues that mostly likely stem from losing the only father that he ever loved, his stepfather, Ralph Jennings.

"When he was convicted of killing David Selkirk's father, not only did he lose Mr. Jennings, but his mother blamed him. She sent the boy away to a boarding school where he was in one violent incident after another, with one finally culminating in the death of a boy in his fraternity over a girl. He was convicted of manslaughter, but the influence of his grandfather helped him to make parole early.

"After that, Selkirk's step-father was murdered in prison. David seemed to have suffered a psychotic break according to public record and was involuntarily committed to the mental hospital, in Del Mar. While there, he insisted upon being called Kirk Allison, and he also worked in the facility's carpool as a mechanic."

"How is the name change relevant?" Tovey asked.

Paul said, "Clare Allison was defended by Mr. Mason, who was helped by my father, a private investigator, and prosecuted by Hamilton Burger. Now, since his release five weeks ago, no one seems to know where he is keeping himself, not even his mother, who by the way has remarried. There have been attempts, one very successful, may I remind you, on three of the people either directly or indirectly connected with the case. Hamilton Burger is dead, so maybe Yvette Burger was a close substitute."

"Fine," Carmichael asked, "Then why no attempt on your life?"

Paul looked uncomfortable and finally said, "I don't know, detective. Lack of opportunity. The fact that I am younger and could put up more of a fight; I don't know. I do, however, suggest strongly that you help us try to locate him before someone else gets hurt."

Tovey picked up the file which contained copies of the information put together for them to take.

"We will take this under advisement, look into it further, and get back to you as soon as possible." Turning to Della, he said, "Ma'am, good afternoon. Gentlemen."

Carmichael followed his fellow officer outside without a word.

Ken Malansky let out a breath, "Well, that could have gone better."

"We don't really have anything but circumstantial evidence; why should they take us seriously," Perry said.

"The key to all this is finding this Kirk Allison or David Selkirk, or whoever he is. That we can get a start on now by talking to his mother in person and seeing if there are any financials we can trace to his use. His mother is bound to know if he has money from a trust," Ken said.

"The grandfather is dead," Della said, looking through a sheaf of papers in her hand. "His will would have been probated and David may have inherited through him."

Perry said, "Excellent point, Della! Paul—"

"We're on it!"

"Wait!" Della yelled, "Here's a copy of the latest photo of him."

Putting her hand on Paul's cheek, she whispered, "Be careful, please."

Paul gave her that wide grin, "I will," then he pulled her into a hug and whispered into her ear, "We're good. I was outta line."

When Della pulled away, Paul said, "Love ya; gotta run," and headed for the door.

Ken paused long enough to say, "I'm going to see the mother, and would you two, please, stay here?"

"Excuse me," Perry almost bellowed.

Della gave him an innocent smile, "Where else would we be?"

Ken wanted to roll his eyes, but, wisely, did not. Instead, he just smiled a bit uncomfortably and followed Paul out.

As the door shut, Della looked at Perry, and said, "I'm ready when you are, Chief."

*******************************P & D****************************************

The former home of the Burgers was in a lovely neighborhood within a half hour of theirs.

Della had familiarized herself with the rental car that had been delivered after Ken and Paul had lit out on their respective missions. Now, she carefully pulled it into the garage, where only one other car waited eerily for an owner who would not be returning.

Getting out slowly, Perry used the opener given to him by Hamilton, Jr., (along with the house keys) to close the garage door.

Della reached back into the back seat to get a manila envelope and a camera.

Together, they stood quietly in the garage, the only light filtering through the trees and the dusty windows. The air was stuff and heavy. Dust motes floated through the light from the windows, disturbed by their arrival.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. I am not enjoying this, but I understand that you want to see the scene of the crime yourself. You forget; I know how you work." Della smiled at him.

Perry smiled back, "At this point, you _should_ know all my secrets."

He became serious, and said, "You can wait here, baby."

"No. Like old times. We go together." Rounding the front of the car, she held out her hand, which he took firmly in his.

With the other, Perry unlocked the door, and pushing it open, they entered the house where Yvette Burger had taken her last terrified breaths.


End file.
